Silent Burden
by JrockSpam's Requested Fics
Summary: Metsugi
1. Opening

_**I do not know and nor do I own Hits or Meto, any band members, or any real life people who appear in this story.**_

_**-JrockSpam, Mod 2**_

_**SYNOPSIS: **__** Meto suffers from a sciatica, a spinal disorder that effects him every day, often leaving him without the use of his legs. After meeting and befriending, and later dating, his idol Hitsugi, Meto believes he is safe his older man's care. Years later, the pains and discomfort begins to suddenly get worse, but Hitsugi is too preoccupied to even notice. Believing he is a burden on his boyfriend's busy life, Meto tries to suffer alone with terrible consequences.**_

I can remember being fourteen years old and standing amongst a massive crowd of excited people, all of us screaming and chanting together as the band I had longed to see since I was 9 years old stepped on to the stage and shone like stars. My cousin, 7 years my senior, had introduced me to their music. He told me how he had first seen them at a local bands act that his friends had dragged him to a year before. He told me how 'amazing' and energetic they were as he showed me a bad quality live video. He showed me song after song. At 9 years old, I had heard nothing like them and instantly became fascinated by them. They're heavy metal music was so foreign to me and they're costumes reminded me of the circus. For the next five years, I collected their CDs and posters and learnt every set of lyrics as if it was part of a religion. I was obsessed. Every year I begged my parents for concert tickets for birthday or christmas, but they always said no.

"You're too young" they said  
"Theyre too expensive" they said.  
"You're too sick" they said.

I soon became convinced that I would never be able to see my heroes perform in front of my eyes.

I have a spinal disorder, that often leads to Sciatica caused by a childhood accident. Half the time I would have to spend my days in a wheel chair, unable to join in with my friends. This, I believe, is the big reason my parents wouldn't let me go to any concert. They were so worried about me getting hurt and knocking a spinal disk.

But, after a wait that felt like a millenium, a pair of tickets were final given to me for my fourteenth birthday. If I hadn't been in my wheel chair that day, I would have jumped up and down and danced with happiness.

"It's a little welldone present for being _so_ brave during your operation" my dad smiled

"And since you should be walking again by that date, we thought it would be perfect!" my mother beamed, watching me with her loving eyes.

The day I final got to see the band live was the most amazing day of my life. Sure, my dad had to go with me, which caused a few people to giggle, but I didn't mind. I was in a state of complete ecstasy and nothing could destroy the feeling.

I was there at last.  
After thinking I would never be able to go.  
I was at a Nightmare live.

_**How's this for a start? More to come!**_


	2. Chapter 1 The Beginning

_**PLEASE EXCUSE ANY ERRORS. I currently do not have a beta. If you notice an error please DO NOT point it out. I personally prefer to find it myself. **_

Over the years, that night inspired me to do many things. I changed my style and attempted to learn instruments. First, I tried guitar. I found the learning process too long and my lack of natural talent for the instrument made me feel like I was damned as soon as pinged a string. When I was 15, my mother and father surprised me with a massive, full drum kit. My parents believed that the amount of movement included in drumming would be great exercise for me and do positive things for spine. They couldn't be more right. I was supposed to exercise every day for the sake of my back but I wasn't good at keeping up the routine of it all. But playing drums replaced my love for Nightmare and became my new, phsycally healthy obsession. I soon noticed improvements. For the first time in my life I could bend down and touch my toes. It's a small, silly thing to most people but it wasn't something wonderful for me.

Two years later, we moved from Kyoto to Tokyo due to my dad getting promoted. We moved from a secluded little house hidden amongth rice fields and forests to a fairly large house in the middle of the city. To many people's surpised, I was in credibly happy about the move. Living in the city made it a lot easy to befriend people, another thing I found difficult in my childhood. I befriended a strange man in his early 20s soon after arriving in Tokyo. He wanted a drummer for his new band, and for some reason, as soon as he found out I could drum, I was his first choice.

"You're a bit peculiar, aren't you?" he said "And I want something unique for this band. I want to create something that makes me go 'wow! Thats different!' and I think you really could contribute to that"

This was Tsuzuku, who within weeks of knowing him he became my first best friend. He convinced me to practise my drumming more and be more daring with my fashion sense. He even went as far as convincing me to get piercings, which I became very fond of. No one will be surprised to know that my parents had a strong dislike for Tsuzuku for quite a long time. They seem to be rather fond of him now.

Tsuzuku dragged out every interest I had and transformed it into something flamboiant and brilliant and soon I was helping our band gain popularity just by showing my face in a shop with one of our band T shirts on. I felt amazing and special for the first time in my life.

Once we gained more members, Tsuzuku's ex-band mate Koichi and a rather bossy MiA, our band gained a permenant name and reputation for rebellion, scares and energy. By the time I was 19, my life felt like an amazing dream and I refused to wake up. The dream became deeper one night as we danced in a goth club in Harajuku after a riot of a gig.

Unfortunatly, the club's crowd was big, boistrous and stuffy, everybody touching everyone in sight without choice. A small hyperactive gang of drunken death rockers to my left soon created a raging mosh pit. Worry ran through my body as I feared I might get dragged in. The smallest slap to my back can leave me in agony for days, making drumming so painful for me. As I tried to scramble desperatly through the crowd to the safe edge of the dancefloor, I found myself being rudely pushed back. I screamed curses and ordered people to get out my way, but I remained ignored and before I knew it, I was being thrown around by fifty blotto people with no way out. The music in the club was so loud I doubt they could hear my pleas anyway. The horror seemed to last forever and as I was pushed and kicked around, my spine bending so suddenly as I flung back and forth, I felt pain shoot through my torso and up my neck. I tried to kicked my way out, but this only encouraged them, and they're pushing became stronger. I could hardly breathe or see where I was and it took me minutes to realise I had finally been pushed out of the mosh ring and was, at last, being pushed back through the jeering crowd. With the pain increasing by the second, throbbing throughout my bruised body and working down to my hips, I hobbled out of the crowd and stumbled to the fire exit. I slammed the cheap plastic door behind me and leaned against the wall with clenched teeth, slowly sliding down as my knees became weak. I tried to catch my breath but panic increased as I began to feel my thighs go numb. It was beginning. Soon my entire legs would be numb and I would be stranged where I was unless someone assisted me. I needed help. I needed Tsuzuku but I could barely get myself into a standing position, let alone make my way back inside to find him. I knew there was a somewhat decent chance one of band mates would find me and be able to carry me back to our hotel to take my medication, and if not, I always had my phone to call an ambulance. Even so, I panicked. I hated being on my own when this happened. It was frightening. My legs would become practically paralysed and useless to me and I could do nothing without the help of others. I felt like a child, yes, but I didn't want to be left like this. Once I had my medication and my wheel chair I could take care of myself, but until then I needed someone. I need someone right at that moment. Hope hit me as someone came into view, though sadly not one of my band mates. They sang loudly, every now and then clapping theyre hands and doing a twirl. I watched them, suddenly unsure. This person was stumbling down from the end of the alley way, only a siluette in the darkness. I suddenly realised that this person could easily rob me right now. What if they took my phone? Then I would have no way to contact anyone! I mentally yelled at myself for being so distrusting of others and held on to the rope of hope as this person got closer and closer. I swallowed and finally spoke.

"H-h-Hey.. Hey!" I stuttered not from nerves but pain

The person stopped. The black figure lifted their head to look at me. My hope lowered as they slurred a reply with a sing-songy voice

"Heeeeey!"

They were drunk. As if their previous actions hadn't been proof. I had held hope that this person had just thought they were alone and could act as weird as they wanted. I know I do that... But this person was drunk.

They came jogging over, giggling to themselves like an overally happy child. The person, a man with a mass of hair way past his shoulders, stopped before me, swaying in an unsettling manner.

"Whatcha doing there, kid?"

"I-"

The man swore, spinning round and holding his forehead "Awe man! I've drunk so much!" he cackled to himself. He turned back and stumbled to sit down next to me.

"Whatcha doing there, kid?" he repeated.

"Look." I began as seriously as possible "I'm in trouble and I need you to-"

"Ain't everyone in trouble!" the man blurted out in a light hearted manner "World problems, yeah?"

"No. Listen-"

"I aaaam" the man spoke like a child

"I need you to go in there-" I swallowed mid sentances, before carrying on in the calmest voice I could " and get my friend"

"Duuude..." he slurred, still swaying where he sat "I don't have a pass! Can't get in without paying! Tis all gone on booze"

I grumbled to myself before the pain suddenly increased and zapped through my spine. I hissed, moaning through gritted teeth as agony swallowed my body.

"Shit" the man spat "Ya hurt!"

He rushed to his feet to stand in front of me, a waiting hand held out.

"Come on I'll get you help" he suddenly sounded so kind that I felt bad having to decline his offer.

"I can't get up" I explained, still in agony that made my lungs tighten.

The man muttered to himself before doing something I hadn't expected. Within a second, he had bent down and lifted me up bridal style. I clung on to his shoulders, fearful he would drop me. I didn't want to think about how much the pain would increase if I hit the floor from just 4 foot. The man said nothing, and began to walk off with me in his arms. In shock and pain, I didn't speak either, putting my entire trust in him to take me to safety. The idea of simply using my phone had abandoned me, for reasons unknown. As we came out of the alley, I looked up and felt my heart stop.

That face... I knew that face so well. He had covered my walls, I had copied his make up, I had watched his interviews through my years. At any other moment, I would have become rabid, pouncing on him and ordering him to answer my questions, pleaing for inspiring words and his signature on my arm. But in the situation I was in, all I could do panic. It was all humiliating.

Hitsugi carried me tightly before suddenly stopping dead centre in the middle of the club's car park.

"Where am I going?" he blurted out, frowning and looking around cluelessly.

It took me a moment to realise he was waiting for a reply. I was still struck with silence as I mentally tried to confirm he was who thought.

"I..." my mind went blank "I don't know"

As another flood of intense pain rain through my spiine, up my neck and to my head, I felt my body go weak as my sight went cloudy.

Everything stopped.

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. The pain was weak but I was completely numb from the hips down. To my surprise, Hitsugi has still there. I remember thinking, only for a second, was a startling colour of green half his hair was. I didn't get to dig deeper into the thought as the guitarist began to stutter out an explanation as to why he had stayed. He seemed worried that I might be angry with this. I didn't understand why.

Hitsugi told me how he had driven me back to his place after I passed out. He interupted his own story to apologise about driving drunk and risking my life. He continued jabbering on about what a bad person he was for driving under the influence of alcohol for about ten whole minutes, before finally returning to the story. He explained how he taken me into his house, put me on his sofa and tried to wake me up. He thought I was over heating for some reason and took my shirt off only to be come startled by my bruised body. He panicked and thought he'd hurt me some how so called an ambulance. He lied about who he was so he go with the paramedics and myself, saying he was my brother. Hitsugi told me how they originally thought I had overdosed and had questioned him about it as if he was a criminal. He then went into great depth to explain how he tried to find out who I was. He admitted to rummaging through my clothes in hopes of finding my phone. When he did, he went through my phone book app trying to find someone to call but no one jumped out. He considered ringing some but as it was 3am he didn't want to wake anyone up. I also had a lot of missed calls from Tsuzuku. Hitsugi had tried to contact Tsuzuku but he never picked up his phone. Hitsugi apologised repeatedly as soon as he had completed the story.

After telling him how I had recieved the bruises, that I hadn't take any drugs and finally thanked him for his help, I plucked up the courage to check his identity. Hitsugi seemed excited that I knew who he was and quickly brought up the topic of music. For hours, Hitsugi remained with me as entertainment. We spoke with very few pauses and found that we had many things in common. Even though most of my body was uncomfortable numb, I was bathing in ecstacy as we nattered in the hospital room.

Every so often, the guitarist would look at his watch and announce he had to leave soon but he never did. When he finally did leave, it was because a nurse asked him to. But before he left he grab my phone and began to fiddle about with it, blank faced. After I order him to give it back he placed on my lap, waved good bye and said the words that put a smile on my face for the rest of hospital stay.

"Phone me".


End file.
